Weep willow weep your weary winter woe
At the sight of your icy, new trousseau,
Above the frosted brook, a mirror faux
Her reflection was horribly so-so,
With rigid branches laced in flakey snow
White, a favorite color, not hers though,
Clear crystals clung, dressing her to and fro
All stitched on by a hand who did not sew,
Frozen stiff,...
Continue reading...